


Another Life

by drwhorose



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, heath ledger is my joker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15952157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drwhorose/pseuds/drwhorose
Summary: Bruce Wayne is a surgeon living happily with a handsome butcher named Jack Napier. His life seems perfect until he has a terrible dream and begins receiving mysterious notes in their apartment.





	Another Life

  _"And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat_

_I tried to find the sound_

_But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness_

_So darkness I became..."_

_Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine_

 

Bruce stepped out of the shower. He looked in the mirror and quickly dressed in his scrubs and white lab coat. He dug through the drawer and found his name tag and swipe card for Gotham General. His stomach grumbled but he didn’t have time for breakfast.

 “Jack, have you seen my razor?”

 Jack walked into the bathroom, razor in hand.

 Bruce smiled. Jack always looked radiant in the morning no matter how messy his hair could get. The sun hit his dirty blonde locks in the most incredible way. Jack grinned widely, and Bruce wanted to kiss his perfect mouth and forget about saving lives for a few moments.

 “Needed a touch up.” Jack rubbed his clean-shaven face.

 Bruce walked over and kissed Jack’s lips softly. He noticed a tiny bit of blood on his cheek where Jack must have nicked himself. He quickly but gently wiped it away hoping the sight of blood on his face wouldn’t trigger bad memories of his abusive father. Bruce silently prayed that Jack had taken his morning meds as well. It seemed that he had been slipping on and off lately.

 “I, uh, made you a pastrami sandwich for your lunch today.” Jack straightened the collar on Bruce’s lab coat.

 “Ooh, thanks. The benefits of living with a butcher.” Bruce smiled.

 “Yeah, can you believe I get to use knives all day for work?” Jack winked.

 “Jack...” He was well aware of Jack’s morbid fascination with knives, which had been curbed by a long stay at the Martha Wayne Facility for Mental Health & Wellness, (years before he ever met Bruce) when the doctors finally found the right combination of meds.

 Jack kissed Bruce’s lips quickly. “Only joking around, Doc.” He chuckled softly.

 Bruce tried to not look so concerned.

 “Oh, Jack, don’t forget we have my parents’ anniversary party tomorrow night.”

 “Party? More like soirée.” Jack teased.

 “Well, it’s technically a gala.” Bruce tucked a stray blonde lock behind Jack’s right ear. “They’re raising money-“

 “For the Gotham City Children & Family Services Foundation. I know.” Jack looked down.

 Bruce’s parents had been inspired by Jack’s ability to rise up from his abusive childhood despite the horrors of the old foster care system. But Bruce knew that Jack didn’t like being reminded of his past.

 “They adore you, you know,” Bruce spoke softly, taking Jack by the hand.

 “Eh, they’re not so bad themselves.” Jack winked again, a nervous tic he had. “I love parties or galas or whatever the hell they throw these days. I’ll wear my best suit. And I already told the comedy club I needed Friday night off. I didn’t forget, ya know, Brucie.”

 Bruce winced at Jack’s pet name for him. Of all the many nicknames Jack had for him, it was his least favorite.

 “I’m late.” Bruce eyed Jack’s gold wristwatch.

 He kissed Jack one more time, forgetting to shave, and headed out of the apartment.

 

*        *          *

 

It had been a long and terrible shift, Bruce had lost a patient during surgery. He headed straight to the comedy club after showering and changing at the hospital.

 “You made it!” Jack ran over to him.

 Bruce nodded somberly, a little more than he had intended.

 “What happened?” Jack always knew when something was off with Bruce.

 “I, uh, lost a patient today- during surgery.”

 “It’s not your fault, ya know. You’re a good doctor, hell one of the best around, and-“

 Bruce thought back to when he had lost a patient for the first time. Calling time of death for a 40-year-old father of four was one of the worst moments in his life. His supervisor let him end his shift early, so Bruce had decided to go to the local deli that he had been meaning to try for years.

 

_And that’s when he first saw Jack. He seemed to almost glow in the sunlight as he harshly called out, “Whaddya want?” when Bruce stepped up to the counter to order._

  _“Um, a pastrami sandwich on rye, please.”_

  _Jack felt his heart skip a beat when he heard the deep gentle voice of this handsome new customer._

  _“Anything to drink with that?” Jack noticed the man had been crying, judging by the bloodshot eyes. He also caught “Doctor” on his name badge as he studied him._

  _“A Coke if you have it.”_

  _“Only got Pepsi here, but for you, Doc, I’ll send Vinnie over there to the corner shop.”_

  _“That won’t be necessary.” Bruce blushed._

  _Jack shook his head, his wavy blonde hair moving back and forth. “Vinnie, go get Doc here a Pepsi.”_

  _Bruce wondered how someone so ridiculously beautiful was working as a butcher at a deli shop in Gotham. He couldn’t take his eyes off him._

  _Bruce waited at a small table for Vinnie, a stocky dark Italian kid, to bring his Coke. Jack walked out from behind the counter, blood stained on his apron, and brought Bruce his sandwich with a bag of potato chips._

  _“Thank you.” Bruce smiled._

  _Jack waved his hand, but a wide grin spread across his face. “S’nothing.”_

  _“I lost a patient today. My first time losing one.” Bruce confessed without thinking that maybe this handsome busy man wouldn’t want to hear his woes._

  _“Sorry, Doc.”_

  _“I’m Bruce. And you are?”_

  _“Jack Napier, a butcher by day, stand up comic by night, well, on the weekends. You should come see my show tomorrow night at the old club on Bleecker. I’ve got this pineapple pizza bit I’ve been working on that’s gonna kill.”_

  _Bruce winced._

  _“Sorry, uh, poor choice of word.” Jack apologized._

  _“I’ll be there.”_

  _Jack’s eyes lit up. “You will?”_

  _Bruce nodded._

 

“So how’d you like my act?” Jack sat next to Bruce at the table, placing his hand over Bruce's.

 “It was hilarious as usual.” Bruce combed his fingers through Jack’s hair.

 “Cheer ya up any?” Jack wondered, eyes wide with concern.

 Bruce nodded. He leaned over and kissed Jack on the cheek.

 “Get a room, homos.” A large burly man threatened.

 Bruce saw Jack’s eyes go haywire almost instantly. Jack didn’t get angry often, but when he did, that look could scare the pants off the devil himself.

 Jack stood up and stared directly at the larger man.

 “What...did you say?”

 The man caught one look at Jack’s psychotic gaze, got up and walked out of the club.

 Jack chuckled, feeling quite pleased with himself. Bruce was beginning to worry that Jack was skipping doses of his anti-psychotics.

 “Let’s go home.” Bruce stood up and held Jack’s hand the entire walk to their apartment.

 

Around 3 AM, Bruce woke up in a cold sweat. He had been dreaming, having a nightmare that he was dressed in a heavy black suit and he was fighting someone.

Bruce thought back to the dream and realized he had been fighting a man dressed in purple with white grease paint smeared on his face, which was damaged by scars. The man looked just like Jack. And all the man in purple did was laugh maniacally no matter how hard Bruce hit him or choked him or threw him against the wall in the dark alley.

Bruce looked over at Jack, who was sleeping soundly. A blanket was draped over his bare hips. Bruce shifted closer to Jack, kissed the perfect skin of his firm shoulder and tried to shake the dream from his mind.

For a brief moment, Bruce had a strange feeling that someone was watching him right now and had been watching them making love earlier that night. But the thought made Bruce feel paranoid and insane, so he tucked the feeling away and pressed his face against Jack’s warm back.

Bruce had the day off but he decided to get up at his usual time anyway to make coffee for Jack, who had an early shift at the butcher shop this morning.

“Thanks for the coffee.” Jack smiled at Bruce before taking a sip.

Bruce was reminded of his nightmare. He swore he saw a Glasgow smile carved onto Jack’s face, extending his naturally wide grin. Bruce blinked and the illusion was gone.

“Hey, uh, you ok?” Jack found Bruce to look pale.

“I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“Take a nap while I’m gone,” Jack suggested. “We’ve got the soirée tonight.” He kissed Bruce on the jaw. “And you’ll need your energy for the after party. Trust me.” Jack growled in his ear.

Bruce shook his head. “Get to work, Jack. I’ll see you tonight.”

A few hours after Jack had left for work, Bruce decided to tidy up the apartment. Jack preferred organized chaos, his words not Bruce’s, but there was too much clutter. And he needed a distraction from the dream that still haunted his waking moments.

Bruce went to the door to shake out the mat when he found a note:

_"Dreams have a funny way of revealing reality.”_

Bruce studied the note. The handwriting was impeccable and appeared to be burned onto the parchment paper. The words themselves shook him to the core. Who had the ability to see into his mind? And who would send him a note about his dream?

He felt nauseous and slightly dizzy. He sat down on the floor near the door. He looked up at the photos hung haphazardly by Jack along the wall. They were all photos of them, sitting around in their apartment or hanging out at the comedy club.

He stood up, regaining his strength, and decided to make himself a sandwich. He opened the refrigerator door and found another note of parchment paper on top of the egg carton.

Bruce blanched. Someone had been in their apartment and had left a note last night. He knew someone had been watching him, watching them.

He opened the note:

  _“Find me at the gala to learn the truth about Jack. All will be revealed. I’ll be waiting in the panic room of Wayne Manor. I trust you know where that is.”_

 The same perfect handwriting. And whoever this was, they were using Jack to lure him. Whatever this psycho’s plan was, it was working. Because Bruce would do anything for Jack. And he had a horrible feeling that Jack was in trouble. Bruce slid the note into his back pocket and got ready to go out for lunch instead of eating at home.

 Bruce went straight to the deli, wanting to ensure that Jack was safe. And if Bruce was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what would happen tonight in the panic room.

 “Hi, Vinnie, a pastrami on rye with a can of Coke please.”

 “Oh, hey, Dr. Wayne.” Vinnie smiled. “I know Jack’ll wanna serve ya. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

 Ten long minutes later, Jack brought Bruce his sandwich with a look of undisguised concern on his face.

 “Ya know I had to go all the way to the corner shop to get you this Coke.” Jack feigned annoyance.

 Bruce smiled. “I had to see you before all the obligations with the gala. We might not get to be toge-“

 “No complaints here, Doc.” Jack winked. He kissed his jaw softly. “We’ll be together after the soirée...very close together if ya catch my drift.”

 Bruce’s heart sank. For once in his seemingly perfect life, he felt uncertain about the future.

 Jack studied Bruce closely and could sense the worry that surrounded him. He snatched the note that was slightly sticking out of Bruce’s back pocket when he went to kiss his lips one more time.

 “I’m looking forward to tonight,” Jack whispered as he slid the note into his own pocket.

  

A few hours later, Bruce, wearing his best tux, greeted his parents.

 “Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.”

 “Thank you, Bruce.” His mother gave him a warm hug. “Where’s Jack?”

 “He isn’t here yet?” Bruce felt his palms go sweaty. “He said he’d meet me here at 8.”

 “We haven’t seen him, son.” Bruce’s father confirmed.

 “I’m sure he’s going to look fantastic in whatever color he wears tonight,” Martha added as she looked around the ballroom, scanning the crowd for Jack.

 “Mom,” Bruce rolled his eyes.

 “I mean it. He’s one dashing young man. And he only has eyes for you.” She squeezed Bruce’s arm. “He also happens to love purple bow ties.”

 “What your mother means to say is, we’ve never seen you happier these past few years.”

 “Thanks, Dad.” Bruce blushed. “I should go look for him.”

 

 Meanwhile, Jack had found his way to the panic room after threatening the butler Alfred with one of his butcher knives, hidden in one of his many pockets.

 He had to find this crazy lunatic before Bruce did. He could take care of this on his own. He could protect Bruce.

 “Joker, I’m impressed.” A tall thin balding man wearing an emerald silk cloak and a silver suit greeted Jack. “You’ve arrived before Batman.”

 “What the hell are you talking about? The name’s Jack.” His lips twitched to one side nervously. “Who’s Batman? And well, who the fuck are you?”

 “I am the Sorcerer.” The man introduced himself as if he were royalty, standing tall and proud.

 Jack smirked with irritation. “Real original.”

 The Sorcerer laughed heartily. “For my first time creating an alternate reality, I did a damn fine job if I do say so myself.”

 Jack cocked his head to one side and slowly approached the strange man clad in emerald.

 “Did you really think a wealthy genius of a surgeon would fall in love with a lowly orphan butcher such as yourself?” the Sorcerer asked.

 Jack’s lips twitched again. He felt his stomach sinking.

 “So you’re telling me that none of this is real?”

 “Well, it’s very real to you and Bruce...for now...until I return you to your actual reality. I created this little universe to confuse and torture Batman. I wanted to make a lasting first impression.”

 “Again with the Batman. Who the hell is Batman?” Jack was growing impatient and his anti-psychotics were wearing off.

 The Sorcerer shook his head. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

 Jack bit his nails anxiously. “So in the real world, my dad didn’t beat on me or kill my ma?”

 “Oh, no, I’m afraid all of that is based on a true story, except I toned it down.”

 Jack’s eyes widened.

 “I didn’t have the heart to destroy your exquisitely handsome face. And besides, we all know Bruce adores pretty things. I just never realized he’d fall so completely in love with you.” The Sorcerer looked pleased. “All I could hope for was that you’d go to bed together, a one night stand maybe, but this-this was far better. And I do love surprises.”

 

“Who are you?” Bruce growled as he entered the panic room. “And where’s Jack?”

 Jack almost didn’t recognize Bruce’s angry voice. He usually sounded so calm and gentle.

 “Are you the one who’s been leaving me notes, messing with my head?” Bruce continued before the Sorcerer could respond.

 “Guilty as charged.” The man in silver and green smiled sheepishly. “Now that you’re both here together, I’ll send you back to your real universe. I’ve had enough fun for now.”

 Bruce stepped closer. “Send us back? What the hell are you talking about? _This_ is my real universe. This right here- _this_ is my life. I’m a cardiac surgeon at Gotham General and I’m in love with Jack Napier.”

 He reached over, grabbed Jack’s hand and squeezed tight.

 “My life is fucking perfect.” Bruce did his best to control his fear and panic. “There is nowhere else to send me. You’re just a lunatic.”

 Jack felt a tear sting his eye. “Bruce, don’t, you’re only making it worse.”

 The Sorcerer chuckled. “So you really do love him.” He paused thoughtfully. “This has all gone so much better than I could have hoped for.” He clapped his hands together.

 Bruce nodded earnestly. “Of course I love him. I was actually going to propose this weekend.”

 “Oh, wonderful!” the Sorcerer was genuinely thrilled. He began to laugh again.

 Bruce glared at the Sorcerer for interrupting and then turned to look at Jack, taking a moment to notice his bright purple bow tie and pocket square. “I didn’t want to steal my parents’ thunder at the gala tonight. Jack, I’m sorry, I was going to surprise you-“

 “Do you have the ring? I’d like to see it.” Jack wondered, feeling dizzy as he realized that he had forgotten to take his meds before the party in his urgency to get to the panic room before Bruce.

 Bruce pulled a small box out of his coat pocket.

 Jack cackled when he saw the black velvet box. “It’s all too fucking perfect. I see it now!” He laughed maniacally.

 Bruce looked concerned. He took Jack’s large hand to help center him and slid the gold band covered in tiny emeralds and amethysts onto his left ring finger.

 “It’s time to go.” The Sorcerer raised his hands.

 Jack looked at the ring and chuckled.

 “My favorite colors.” He smiled at Bruce as he brought his hand to his mouth and licked the ring. “I love you.” He mouthed, never breaking eye contact.

 Bruce loosened his tie nervously. Jack was going off the deep end quicker than usual.

 The Sorcerer grinned at the exasperated look on Bruce’s face. “But before you go, one final gift. Bruce, I want you to remember this alternate reality I created for you. Every kiss, every night you made love to your enemy- I want it etched on your brain for as long as you live.”

 “My enemy?” Bruce rubbed his chin as he looked over at Jack. “I still don’t understand.”

 “Don’t you worry that lovely head of yours. It will all become clear soon enough.”

 The Sorcerer pointed his fingers toward Bruce’s head. As a beam of green light emitted from his fingertips, Jack pushed Bruce out of the way and the light entered his head instead.

 “Silly Sorcerer. Those memories belong to me.” Jack snarled as the Sorcerer cursed, realizing his ultimate plan had failed.

 Jack fell on top of Bruce as he absorbed all of their memories from the Sorcerer’s alternate reality.

 

His head hurt like hell when he woke up on top of Batman in the middle of a dark alley in Gotham.

 “Oh, fuck, my skull.” Joker rubbed his right temple.

 He looked down to check on Batman beneath him, who was still unconscious from the Sorcerer’s spell.

 It reminded him of an old memory, back when he was Jack- well, The Sorcerer’s reality Jack.

  _Jack was lying beside Bruce in bed, watching him sleep. He knew he had to wake him soon for work, but he loved to see him so peaceful. Bruce’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled dreamily at Jack._

  _“Hey.”_

  _“Hay’s for horses.” Jack teased. “Gimme a kiss.”_

  _Bruce rolled his eyes at Jack’s bad joke and lifted his head to kiss him on the cheek._

  _“That was weak,” Jack complained._

  _“I’ve got morning breath.” Bruce blushed, averting his eyes from Jack’s intense gaze._

  _“Aw, who cares. Lay it on me, Doc.”_

  _Bruce complied and kissed Jack long and hard_. 

 

Joker frowned, ignoring the sensation of a knife piercing his heart as he recalled his alternate life.

 He looked down and pressed a hungry kiss on Batman’s jaw, tasting Kevlar and warm skin. “For old time’s sake.” He muttered to himself.

 The Sorcerer stood at a distance, disguised as a police officer. He blinked his eyes and a ring encrusted with emeralds and amethysts appeared on Joker’s left ring finger.

 “Huh, will ya look at that?” Joker stroked the ring lovingly with his right hand. “A souvenir.”

 His eyes narrowed and he grinned. He was beginning to feel more like himself again.

 “Wakey, wakey, Bat-man. Time to play.” Joker laughed loudly, doubling over, which finally woke up the only man he ever wanted to chase him in this life.

 Batman’s eyes opened. He felt Joker’s full body weight as the insane man straddled him. “Get off me.”

 “Make me.” Joker winked.

 In the moonlight, Batman couldn’t help but notice the ring on Joker’s finger.

 “Since when do you wear jewelry?” Batman grunted.

 “Oh, this old thing?” Joker waved his left hand around like a Southern belle. “Just a little gift from an old beau. Ya jealous?” He chuckled.

 Batman summoned his strength and wrapped his hands around Joker’s neck as he slammed him against the wall.

 Joker gasped for air and his ears were ringing from the blow to his head. But the pain felt good, felt real.

 Batman glared at him. “It’s back to Arkham tonight, Joker.”

 Joker looked around, despite the tight grip around his throat, and saw Gotham’s finest standing around them, their guns drawn and pointing in his direction. They were surrounded by so many people - yet Batman’s eyes were only on him.

 He grinned a little wider as he gazed back at Batman. The grip around his neck tightened and he knew there would be beautiful colorful bruises around his throat for him to admire in the plastic mirrors of Arkham tomorrow morning.

 Joker knew deep down that things would never be how they were in another life- when he was Jack and Batman was Doc. Well, never was a scary word, one of the most awful words that Joker knew as a matter of fact. So he didn’t linger on the thought of never for long.

 But for now, as Joker felt the pressure on his neck as Batman squeezed a little tighter, this would be enough. Their eyes had locked onto each other’s as they stood in his favorite alley of Gotham in the pouring rain. For Joker, it would be more than enough.

 

 Epilogue

 

Bruce woke up in a cold sweat. Even though Joker was locked away in Arkham these past two weeks, he still couldn’t get a good night’s rest.

 He sat up in bed and closed his eyes as he recalled his most recent dream. Most of it was fuzzy now, but at the time it had felt so lucid and real.

 

_In his dream, Bruce had been sitting on the sofa and reading a book when a beautiful man with wavy blond hair sat next to him. Bruce immediately felt the strongest of emotions with this mysterious man so close to him. The man kissed his lips tenderly and then closed Bruce’s book mischievously with a hearty laugh. Bruce wasn’t even upset at this exquisite man, because for some strange reason Bruce knew he loved the man beside him._

  _“I can think of something better we can do.” The man winked._

  _“Who are you?” Bruce found himself asking, wanting desperately to know who had kissed him. He had to know who he loved so strongly._

  _The man shook his head and placed a finger on Bruce’s lips as if to hush him._

  _Bruce studied his face for a moment as they locked eyes, and although he was exceptionally handsome, there was something off about his eyes, something manic._

  _Bruce looked down and saw a very familiar ring on the man’s finger. A ring that he somehow remembered giving to this man. Bruce suddenly recalled where he had seen the ring before. He gasped._

  _“Joker?”_

  _“Oh, Bats, I thought you wouldn’t recognize me...” He brought a hand to his chest and then leaned in to kiss Bruce._  

 

Bruce shook his head, trying to be rid of the dream. But no matter how busy he kept himself throughout the day, the dream replayed on a loop in his mind.

 Something was terribly wrong. And Bruce had a strange and unsettling feeling that the only person who could give him answers was locked up and heavily medicated. Tonight he would go to Arkham.

**Author's Note:**

> Ten years later, I'm still going down with this ship. Thank you to J.O. for your advice with this story. This one’s for you - Happy Birthday. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading my crazy alternate reality fic. Had this idea and couldn't get it out of my head until I wrote it all down...
> 
> Update: One of the readers was inspired to continue this story. Please check it out on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/664201149-this-life-part-1


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